Chateau del Albineau
by Morrigan the Nightmare Queen
Summary: Currently a oneshot, may be continued. The twins are kicking back at the chateau, chatting and complaining. Humor.


Author's note: I'm a fan of the Twins and of Agent Smith; since I just re-watched Matrix: Reloaded, the plotbunnies have latched onto my leg good and proper. I present to you the first of the little buggers.

This may or may not be a one-shot. It's entirely for fun, because I like stories about the twins causing chaos and there aren't nearly enough of them. (Twins or stories.) If the plotbunny continues to gnaw on me, I may introduce another famous pair of mischievous twins in the next few chapters . . . let's just hope that One and Two don't try to use the Skiving Snackboxes on the Merovingian. Reviews will be appreciated.

Disclaimer: The Twins, the Woman in the Red Dress, and all other associated characters and concepts belong to the Wachowski brothers and their associates. I don't own them. Please don't sue.

**CHATEAU DEL ALBINEAU**

_by Morrigan, the Nightmare Queen_

"One?"

"What?" One muttered. He had just gotten comfortable on the nicely-coded sofa, he had brand new issue issues of _Guns & Ammo_ and _Trigger-Happy Illustrated, _and tomorrow was the big NRA convention in San Diego. Life had been sweet. But he'd heard Two use that tone of voice before, and it ususally meant only one thing.

"Oh, bugger, it happened _again._ You have _got _to see this."

It is a generally accepted fanfiction law that One is the "scary" twin, and Two is the "flaky" one. This is not true. Given that they were created by the godly hand of the Architect hitting copy/paste, the ghost Twins of the Merovingian had begun existence as identical as could be. Granted, time spent as exiles in the fringe world of the Matrix had indeed given them both their own little foibles, such as One's passion for Cadillacs (a better vehicle never programmed, he liked to say) and Two's tendency to imitate Jay and Silent Bob, yet they remained generally alike. And that meant they both knew that when either brother summoned his twin with that voice, it meant that there was a Mission. And not one that the Merovingian had ordained.

Throwing down his magazine, One rose from his seat and followed the sound of Two's voice. As usual, the other albino was in the library, seated in one of the leather armchairs with a laptop on the table in front of him. His pale eyes were staring at the screen with an expression that, had he been human, would have communicated shock and horror. On Two, it was simply a look of vague nausea, or something in the range of constipation.

"Not again," One groaned, flopping down in the chair next to his brother. "What is it this time?"

"Oh, you're going to _love _this thing," Two said, in a voice that promised exactly the opposite. "'Flying Superman Saves Three Small Children: Mysterious Hero Lauded for Daring Rescue after Subway Train Runs Amok.' How do you like _that?" _He shoved the laptop away and flicked out his switchblade. "Those goddamn pricks, at it again. It's not enough that they grab the Keymaker, but they gotta turn up here at all hours and do the super-hero schtick. I'd gag, if I had a digestive system."

"Must be good P.R.," his brother responded, leaning over to have a better look at the online article Two had been perusing. "'The mysterious power failure which caused the train's brakes to disengage has not been explained by the metropolitan transportation bureau.' Mysterious my arse. The only _mystery _is whether they ever got the engineer untied."

"Don't think so. He was in the obits. A 'tragic early death resulting from mechanical failure while operating heavy equipment.'"

One grinned. "That's a solid fifteen for 'tragic early death' this year. Not bad. How's 'found dead under mysterious circumstances' doing?"

Furrowing his brows, Two pulled out a small leather-covered notebook and examined it. "Four. Not so good. Ever since Fancy Nancy Neo and his crew started cropping up all over and doing the unknown-hero-beloved-of-the-people routine, it's all gone downhill."

"Vlad must be disappointed," One commented.

"He's not disappointed."

"The great torturer? I would've thought all this cutting into his business would've really burned him up."

"He's dead, remember?" Two made a sharp stabbing motion with his right hand. "Staked."

"He was what?"

"Last week? You know? Troublesome, rebellious people in black leather?"

One tapped at the laptop, scrolling down through the article.. "You just described a solid two-thirds of all the humans in this city. Try narrowing it down a little."

"There was a guy, and a hot chick with sunglasses . . . " Two's eyes glazed over slightly, but he shook himself out of it after his brother pelted him with a paperweight. "Ghost and what's-her-face."

The other twin frowned. "She killed one of our best operatives- and okay, he was a deluded wacko, but STILL one of our best operatives- and you can't even name her?"

"One, it wasn't her name I was worrying about." Two made another hand motion, this one the universal sign for 'huge breasts.' "I mean, you just can't program girls like- hey, watch it!"A second paperweight went flying through his suddenly incorporeal body.

"Of course you don't, dumbass," One remarked, hefting yet another paperweight for emphasis. "That's the point. She's _human_, and unplugged to boot. When the hell did you start drooling over human chicks?"

Two shrugged, reincorporating in another chair and patting his dreadlocks into place with one immaculately manicured hand. "Well, they are sort of the original edition, you know? Version one-point-oh of the Sexy Ladies. And . . . " he shrugged again, this time a little more hesitantly " . . . they don't make fun of your coding."

"Oh, god-I-don't-believe-in-but-really-would-appreciate-if-He-made-you-shut-up," One said. "Is that what this is about? Your bloody algorithms?"

"I toldyou, I _know_ my AA278-41107 codec sequence (beta) is half a gigabyte shorter!" Two retorted, twitching angrily as he toyed with his own switchblade. "I _heard _Cain and Abel talking about it! _They _think they'vegot algorithms up the wazoo, and with that damn werewolf program they get all _kinds _of cool coding, so they're spending all their time making fun of my damn beta codec sequences!"

"Okay, okay, buddy, calm down!" One held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Do you need to arrange another visit to the Woman in the Red Dress?"

"Maybe. Goddamn the Matrix, programming me an inferiority complex." A thought struck Two. "Say, where _did _you get Red, anyway? I don't think she's one of the exiles."

One raised one eyebrow. "Some discs a rebel left in the system a few months ago. Bastard got shot by Smith and the rest of the Agent brigade, and he left his program behind. And some nice pinups, too, but I think the Mero' got those."

"It blows for Persephone, married to that old letch." Two stretched out in his chair. "Half the time he's sending some human bint an orgasm-gram, the other half plotting criminal operations or mooning over his art collection. I really feel her pain."

"That's not all you'd like to feel, I'll bet," One commented, raising an eyebrow.

"Damn. How'd you guess?"

"The doctored wallpaper on your laptop. Nice cut-and-paste work, by the way, but I hope you didn't pay too much for it- the left hand's mucked up."

"The one holding the-"

"Yep."

Two shrugged. "It works for me. And I did specify that the yogurt container said no-cal; I think she'd approve. After she got done disembowelling me, of course, but we can't let little things like that ruin our day." His eyes drifted back to the laptop, where One was rereading the "Flying Superman" article. "Bloody hell."

One met his twin's gaze. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Does it involve blood, devastation, massive civilian casualties, and maybe a light Amontillado afterwards?"

"You read my mind."

Two snorted. "I sure as hell hope I didn't. There are some things in that skull of yours that I don't even want to _think _about, buddy."

"Is this about the time you tried to change your programming so you could read my mind?"

"Yep."

Now it was the first twin's turn to look exasperated. "Oh, for crying out loud, lighten up! Mero fixed your coding in the end, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but I was hallucinating 'Beowulf on Ice' for two weeks straight." Two crossed his legs. "No more crazy schemes. However, the blood-devastation-casualties things sounds good. Which car should we take?"

"Which one do you think?" His brother replied.

"Aaaah."

Twin smiles of vicious anticipation crossed twin chalk-white faces.

_"That _car."

Up in the chateau, the Merovingian cursed in his favorite language as he watched the security feed. He knew he should never have allowed those blasted twins to see those Batman movies!


End file.
